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He pulled on the reins, and the beast lunged forward to search for purchase atop a shard of weathered rock that jutted from the dusty earth like a fallen ancient, his claws digging into the stone as he hefted himself and his rider up. It was from that elevated position that Vornskr surveyed everything before him, his baleful eyes sweeping back and forth over the chaotic battlefield that he had called home on countless occasions across countless worlds. His eyes now fell upon the Heavenshields, husband and wife side-by-side to fight against the dark tide that threatened to wash over the entire galaxy if given a chance, their righteousness burning inconceivably bright in the Force as they levied their weapons against the Dark Lord that now put himself before them and the citadel over yonder. It had been many moons since they had faced each other, and while Vornskr had fought alongside a different group back then the circumstances had not changed one bit.
He scoffed audibly, maneuvering his beast around so that their bodies were perpendicular to his. "The Grandmaster Heavenshield and his sanctified whore come to bleak Ruusan to die, how droll. Much has chanced since frigid Ziost, Thurion, and this time you will not fare as well as you did on that day, and your Coalition will falter before the darkness arrayed before them, and I will come to burn your worlds to ash." The standard traded threats between adversaries, followed shortly by Vornskr lodging his poleaxe into the rock with a single downward thrust before he plucked his lightsaber from his side and allowed its scarlet blade to puncture the air with a hiss of hate.
His beast coiled for the strike, and leapt from the rocky outcropping down towards Thurion and Coci. But before the beast had even a chance to reach the apex of its arcing trajectory, Vornskr thrust out the hand that clutched his blade to deliver a conical strike of telekinetic Force energy down towards the Jedi Masters to rend the ground and hopefully divide their focus as his beast pounced not for Thurion, but for Coci; teeth gnashing and claws ready to rip through flesh like paper.
Location: Valley of the Jedi
Allies: [member="Rasu Gan"] [member="Sorel Crieff"]
Opponents: Sinistra
Matsu had felt it and was surprised while she was moving with the sith, a delicate dance of the blades they had while letting force energies flare out a little touching on the ground as she planted her feet again. Saber moving as she remained still thinking for a brief moment about her questions. Rasu was here and bringing violence to the valley that had been corrupted through ritual to the darkside. "Yes to both, most sith I have encountered are very stereotypical, all about being superior because of the darkside and any attempt to apprehend them for crimes make them into a victim." She moved finally off to the side feeling the brush of Rasu Gan there with her. One of her oldest friends still around.
"Corrupting this valley took much, the vast majority of sith ritual requires death and violence, destruction on scales others would pale with." She let her free hand come out while seeing the emerald skinned women with the bubble maintained around them. Some of the strongest for sensing could see through it and her friend was old... very old just shapeshifting her hair so the grey was gone. She could see through the bubble they were in keeping the small group invisible to the rest of the valley. She could feel what was happening down there with [member="Connor Harrison"] and [member="Jericho"] near [member="Joza Perl"]... Even [member="Shmi Labooda"] and [member="Coci Heavenshield"]... all they needed was [member="Sochi Ru"] to appear.
"Rasu it is good to see you but this is a dance for me for now. Watch the bubble and ensure no one from the citadel comes." She was paying attention with much of the things there moving quickly forward with the force energies in her legs to move. Changing it into a quick flank accelerating to move quickly with a side and side swipe to try and test her abilities here and there. "I like getting to know those I duel, it seems unfair to have them be just another tally when you are a person. You exist and have had a life despite following the path of darkness." She remained there pushing back into a djem so stance that would let her defend with her saber forward and ready once again.
In the vicinity: [member="Matsu Ike"] [member="Sinistra"] [member="Rasu Gan"]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_yWyBjDEaU
Sorel sensed the newcomer and despite being a Padawan, she'd practiced Force Sight for many years now. So her range was decent and she could detect auras too. So an initial apprehension melted as she realised the person joining them was light-sided. Not that she stood down entirely. If dark-siders could fight for the Coalition, it stood to reason light-siders might side with the Sith. However odd that sounded, the logic was flawless.
She opened her eyes and looked in the direction of the new arrival. She remained calm and impassive, trusting the Force to alert her if she needed to act. And then she returned her gaze to the fight that was unfolding. It was rare to see two such accomplished duellists at close quarters in a real encounter. She oddly felt entirely safe and so continued to observe the two as they fought, the movements like some intricate dance - or stage-play. Choreographed to the uninitiated, but to Sorel each move was both instinctive, practiced and an effort to fox the opponent. She was a mere Padawan and could only dream of reaching such a state of control with her saber, so for now she watched and continued to learn.
LOCATION: Valley of the Jedi.
ALLIES: Ice probably killing a lot in background, SSC
ENEMIES: ST, [member="Darth Carach"] even though he still insists we are allies.
Nima smiled to his words, she expected such a speech from a Sith. This smile was awfully not like Nima's since she knew what exactly he was doing. She fought a lot of his kind, a lot tried to look and talk nice first, and he wasn't going to be the last one. So, she, without dropping her lightsaber, talked. Her words were still sharp. "How awfully.. cliche Sith talk you are talking right now. Because I am the big bad and you are the hero, aren't you?" She said, repeating his words with a sarcastic tone. She would take it as a compliment, the little comment he made about the darkness inside her. Which meant she was on the right track, hearing from a Sith, as she was studying and trying to understand the ways of the Dark Side."And the lightsaber will stay right where it is, thank you very much." Sith often tried to look innocent in front of the audience, like they were the right-doers and Jedi were the bad ones, with all their talks and acts criminalizing the Jedi, criminalizing the person in front of them, to be more exact. Making them feel like the villain in this scenario, and then they would get the advantage over them. Nima, at the other hand, saw a lot of this act in her lifetime to understand this was just a play. She knew, with the first chance he got, he would strike. And the Sith were such hypocrites. Talking about bloodshed and killing, meanwhile they went on and genocide an entire planet. Because that was completely normal!
"I am not a monster. And I have a good taste in decorations, so you don't need to worry about your home. There are many ways to kill Sith without spilling blood anyway. Or just stay there, talk about how dark I am, of course, makes my job easier." Not necessary to say, the nice Nima was not there whenever she was in a battlefield. She was a bit more attacking in her words, and her behaviour was not very kind. Which, of course was pretty normal as maybe she was facing the killer of many innocent souls. Once you killed an innocent person, it would change you forever and you wouldn't be the same anymore, so there was no need trying to "save" the soul of this man. "Besides, what difference will it make if I listen to you? We are very different from each other, there is no common ground anymore. We would just waste the time." Then, she added, taking her battle stance slowly. "One thing I am very curious about though. Why did you call me here? It was your presence I felt in my head, wasn't it?" That meant only one thing. "That makes you another mentalist, like me. So, let's just get to the point." Mentalist vs mentalist. It was going to be such a "mind-blowing" duel. Ugh... Nima hated puns.
Objective 1 Location: Valley of the Jedi Mission: Defeat [member="Darth Orcus"] | Advance to the Citadel Allies In Area: [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member=Jericho] | [member="Solan Charr"] | SSC Enemies In Area: [member=Shargon'Ta] | [member="Haytham Kaze"] | ST
The expulsion of air from the Whale-Man wasn't expected, and it was stronger than expected too. It hit Connor in his stride and, like a hammer, struck him off guard and sent him skidding on his back against the gravel ground.
"UGGH!"
His head lolled back, and he swung his leg over to roll himself up, fluidly getting up on his knees and then standing. The armour sure was noticeable. Gritting his teeth, part of the Jedi wanted to take the saber in his hand and advance for a strike, but the more savage part that everyone seemed to question wanted to avoid the blade as long as possible. He was a Rogue Master, one who was even lower in people's assumptions since his troubled past and the Sanctum merger. But he wasn't here to prove anything; he was here to do his duty.
He wasn't here for anyone other than himself and his Order, the historic foundations he had built and wanted to continue to show those who stood against him they would not win. Whether he made or lost friends and enemies today, it would be a small price to pay for a Jedi with nothing left to lose.
Connor glanced sharply to the fallen man away from him, checking he was still moving. He was.
With a sharp breath out he ran again towards the Whale-Man, seemingly enjoying the chaos around him. With an expulsion of Force engery to fuel his muscles and pump his blood, he ran with the intent to shoulder barge the hulking Sith to the ground and begin the break-down of the Triumvirate forces.
Location: The Citadel, Valley of the Jedi Objective: Become He Who Walks Behind. Allies: Me, Myself & I Allies: [member="Nima Tann"]
"Note, that wasn’t what I said." Carach corrected over the sound of his scribbling. It looked like Nima was only getting half of his attention, if that. In truth the Sith had encountered thousands like this one - so self-righteous, so young and completely convinced of the ‘truth’ she wrapped around herself as an armor.
"I like to believe we are all heroes from our own perspective."
Another scribble, another logistics issue solved.
"It’s quite arrogant to believe you know me, when you haven’t even exchanged more than a few sentences with me." The Triumvir looked up, the booklet put away for a moment. "But that’s par for course for people like you, no? Constantly preaching about the Lightside, on how you fight for the good of the Galaxy, but at the end of the day you would rather pick the easy way out."
Carach stood up from his chair, the papers disappeared into whisks of smoke and he extended his arm - almost like he was offering a hug or something else.
"Very well then, Master Jedi. Strike me down, but know that you will make me more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
Location:Citadel, Valley of the Jedi
Objective: Let's start this little dance
Allies: SSC
Enemies: ST, [member="Darth Carach"]...
"That's what you meant. I don't need to know you specifically to understand the secret meaning under a sentence." She said, her voice cold still. But he was right about one thing, everyone was a hero of their own story. And that applied for both of them. Nima had a job to do, prevent Sith to gain more power that would be used against the Jedi, or the innocents, later, which was bound to happen. It was coming from experience, not simply from a belief of such. She wasn't good at those things, and relied more on her own more than a written rule. And the Darth was standing in her way to achieve that goal. All his speech up to now convinced her that that wasn't the way to go. He was too preachey to be having a good conversation with. So, she quickly cut to the chase as she realized what was about to happen next. "Again, I don't need to know you. This is a battlefield, not a cafeteria. And I am here to do what I have come here to do. You are standing in my way. Understood?" She wasn't planning to attack until she heard his next sentence, which made her laugh. It was quite sincere and she wasn't just pretending to laugh. Funny man, that one. He was talking about not trying to know him, and he was making some very wrong assumptions about herself. Such irony.
After her laugh ended, though, she suddenly grow very serious. It was the time to show him she wasn't one of the ordinary Jedi that those Sith always thought. Then, she said, with a very serious voice. "Really? You have no idea..." Threats weren't going to help him now, as Nima already heard a lot of them from different Sith. The context was always the same. They were better when they finally stopped talking. He was still playing the victim, but not for long. She quickly swung her lightsaber towards his chest for a quick kill if he didn't try to defend himself. Let's see if he was going to try playing the victim again.
Ophidia could feel the forces of the Silver Sanctum approaching like locusts. Closing her eyes and sucking in the proverbial scent, she homed in on one presence in particular and traced its’ path. Placing one foot in front of the other, she strode to the doors of the corridor and pushed them open as she strode through. The curved hilts of her lightsabres glinted in the light as she emerged into the lit interior of the connected hall.
Troopers ran across her path, moving supplies and relaying orders, but the Assassin’s stride did not break. Her steps were long, carrying her fast, eyes staring seemingly into nothingness as she honed in on the target. But her distant gaze was not to be taken for blindness. She knew where she was and what was in her surroundings.
As she slipped out of the citadel, she flicked the stealth field generator on her armour and her presence in the Force dispersed like ashes in the wind. She was a ghost, a whisper, a cold breeze on an otherwise sunny day. Her feet planted themselves silently in the soil of the valley, strewn with ruin from the glory days of long lost Jedi. Once more, the field would be strewn with their corpses.
Eyes on the target, she traversed the valley with one particular ruin in mind, a place haunted by the sundered minds that could not let go; a place of shadow and chills. A perfect place for the Aspect of Death.
Location: Valley of the Jedi
Potential Allies: [member="Jericho"] [member="Solan Charr"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Connor Harrison"]
Potential Enemies: [member="Darth Orcus"] [member="Loray Tares"]
Engaging: [member="Haytham Kaze"]
Gear: 2x blue lightsabers, Sasori Armor, Ranger Shotgun, AI Wrist Blaster, 1x standard Vibroblade
In the time she’d recovered from yelling at Jericho, Joza had refocused on Haytham in time to see him leveling a pistol to her. Thinking it to be nothing out of the ordinary on this very unordinary day, she responded in kind by angling her saber in a typical Soresu stance that would block the incoming shot. But no ray of plasma streaked from the gun, no bullet sizzled softly against the blue glow of her blade. If her mind hadn’t blanked, momentarily numb due to the effects of the Hapan Gun of Command, perhaps she would have thought this odd.
[SIZE=9pt]Feel the Dark Side run through you. Indulge yourself. Give yourself to the power of the Dark Side.[/SIZE]
Joza was not, and hasn’t been completely light sided since her early days as an apprentice. The more time dragged on, the more encounters she had with being darker than herself, the more her alignment would gradually shift. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to hold herself back—she maintained some measure of control over herself, though not enough for her liking, even now. Haytham’s words twisted in her mind, over and over until they melded seamlessly into her psyche as if they were her own thoughts.
Solan’s rhetoric would reach her ears as the dark side filled her like rushing water, bathing her in a power so deep, so rich that she wouldn’t mind if she’d drowned in it right then and there. Indulgent indeed, and Joza was in no state of mind to refuse something so decadent and alluring. Deactivating her saber and clipping it to her belt, she inhaled. Deep and slow as if they weren’t in the midst of several raging battles, as if she had all the time in the world.
[SIZE=9pt]“…Don't fall on wanting to kill for killing's sake, focus on saving the life of the man you love…”[/SIZE]
A genuine smile tickled her lips as she tilted her head to look over at Solan. She noted the corruption etched into his face for the first time, a spark of genuine surprise lighting her eyes before it died down. “Don’t worry, Solan. I’m a sensible killer.” Far too calm about this, her face slowly turned back towards Vanitas. Her yellow irises still burned brightly, though there was a measure of clarity found within them that she hadn’t had before. “But the man I love is no longer with us. Only Darth Vanitas stands in his wake.”
Her right hand would lurch backwards violently, grasping the air in Vanitas’ lungs to rip the breath, the very life from him, forcing the lungs to contract brutally and painfully. Shaping had dark sided roots, and she’d been warned by both Saki and Jericho not to tap into her malevolent side too much while handling the elements, lest she hurt someone she did not intend to. Now she had no choice—the darkness was swirling inside of her like a great black storm, churning and crashing against the walls of her mind and resonating in the Force. She’d taken to it with frightening ease.
And then she would focus on unbalancing him with Malacia—a skill she had used, oddly enough, against an opponent of Haytham when they fought side by side against a Sith Lord. The Force would try to knock him off balance, constricting around his stomach and shaking his equilibrium.
But she would only work briefly with Malacia, instead pouring the majority of her focus into her shaping. Maintaining her hold on his lungs, she grasped the currents around her and willed them to meld together, swirling into a sphere of air in the outstretched palm of her left hand. The air would spin rapidly, tightening and compressing itself as it went. Satisfied, she spun a quick layer of flames around it and launched it towards Vanitas—upon contact with anything, it would explode into a fiery mess.
The bond between the pair could be likened to a bridge covered in thousands of bright lights, glowing brilliantly within the tides of the Force. Now, the lights had darkened—at least on her end. The bridge was still there, but it was much, much less apparent. Smothered and sunken into darkness, much like herself.
Feel the Dark Side run through you. Indulge yourself. Give yourself to the power of the Dark Side.
Location: Valley of the Jedi Gear: Items in profile Allies: [member="Darth Orcus"], [member="Haytham Kaze"], @Shagorn'Ta Enemies: [member="Jericho"] (we can still interact if you want), [member="Solan Charr"], [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Alkor Centaris"]
Metal erupted from the large casing, powered by powder and explosives spinning out in a 360-degree arch. It hit against the shield and it hit against sprouting vegetation and root, trunks and vines forming to lay waste to all the promised destructive power. But was that truly acknowledgment, or simply avoidance? More importantly, was there a functional difference? Already, he had steadied the rifle once more in their general direction. Hovering from the large figure, once causing chasm, to the man now on the ground and summoning such delectable force to his whims. The eye of his hand saw that spectrum, green curtains cutting across the dusty terrain.
But the tumbling power of the Hherglic caught his eye, the way it just bled from a mouth agape and caused disruption in its wake. A riveting sense overcame him as he steadied his rifle towards the Herglic. And then towards the man that had been blasted back, hitting the ground, only to charge once more. There he was, in all his glorious armor .
The Valley of the Jedi was a wonderful place, a force nexus that seeped from the very soil and masticated in the whirlwind between those doing bad, for the sake of good, and those doing bad, for the sake of something else. And it pressed into Loray, all the same, an agent with no true purpose beyond the pull of a trigger. And in tandem, he felt the power swirl with the force Nexus of the Soul Saber, soaked in battle meditation and the unbridled focus. The numbing sensation, it took hold, and he grimaced at the loss of presence.
It wasn't what he wanted, but it's what he needed. Otherwise, what was the point?
Pressing the trigger, ignored for the short time, he fired a grenade at the charging [member="Connor Harrison"].
Thunk
From his pores, from his glands and from every opening, the force trickled out of him. Thick fog like tendrils, coursing with the sort of malevolence that could no longer be hidden by the disperser, his impatience boiling nearly to the brim. Just in time to drop another grenade in, slowly lumbering towards the battle. Each step felt at odds with the armor, metal moaning with the forced momentum. With tendrils stretching out, the energy overlapped him, absent apparent control.
In her tracks she stood, slowly raising her blade from the ground till the hilt rested just above her forehead. With speed, and ferocity she lunged forward twisting her wrist as she manipulated her blade with precision. She emerged on the other side of a small group of three acolytes, she stood straight up and lowered her head for just a moment. Within seconds she heard the thump of their bodies hitting the ground one after the other.
It would seem they were getting more frequent as they got closer to the citadel; this was something to make note of.
She was approached by two Jedi who were apart of her original task force, seemingly the other didn't make it. They were quickly covering ground, so in that fact she didn't call for a retreat. The others urged her to lead on, so she did.
"We must move."
Her soft words cut through the wind that swept through the valley, just ahead was an underpass. Fallen ruins cut off the original path and formed one on its own. She squinted her eyes, and stopped her stride when she approached the opening. She turned to the others who gathered just behind her.
"Be on guard...we are close, the path from here will only get more dangerous." and she took her initial step into the field of shadows, her robes becoming engulfed by darkness when she approached. Their lightsaber' illuminated the cavern carved from the ancient architecture of the planet. She was ahead of the two Jedi, proceeding cautiously.
Olmondo Near the main road Allies: [member="Kiran Vess"] | [member="Cameron Centurion"] | [member="Lassiter"] | [member="Dak Canton"] | [member="Ameli Trahir"] Enemies: [member="Kei Amadis"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] | [member="Tempest"] | [member="Charlyra Araano"]
Laguz cursed Balagoth when the shot missedi. It wasn’t a complete waste, though; the deflection had redirected the speeding chunk of metal into a nearby soldier, who promptly collapsed.
The first glowstick knight had sped off into the maze of streets branching off the artery of Olmondo. Since Kiran had gone that way mere moments before, the sniper felt the threat of a Jedi was contained enough for xem to redirect xir focus onto more immediate threats.
Like, really immediate.
A building crumbled under a vicious hail of droid fire, dredging up debris and smoke. For a few seconds, xir field of vision was reduced to motes of varying dirt colors. Xe was still tripping on D-grade, and so those seconds dragged by with all the enthusiasm and attitude of a moody teenager.
When the dust finally settled, Laguz was presented with a fresh batch of targets, trotting down the alley like they owned the place.
Which, xe supposed, they came here to do. Too bad intent didn’t equal success.
Sniper drones kept shooting and a feisty redhead groundside kept blowing them up with excessive displays of the Force. Unfortunately, the woman also weaved between the advancing tanks – whether by design or accident – and Laguz had trouble getting a bead on her form from that angle.
No matter, there were other fish in the sea.
Delicious, beskar-clad fish.
A firaxan grin threatened to curl the face of the wall, but Laguz contained xir excitement. Anyone who wore beskar’gam wore it with the expectation of being practically immune to any kind of ranged attack. This expectation was, honestly, perfectly justified. The metal could hold up to insane amounts of punishment and shrug it off just as easily. Your usual bullet would just flatten itself uselessly against the plate and fall to the ground. Your usual sniper round would flatten itself, but transfer enough kinetic energy to cause some serious damage to the flesh underneath.
But take a beskar bullet, and suddenly, those over-confident Mandos become walking ricochet simulators.
Fired from a verpine shatter rifle, the beskar bullets Laguz brought travelled at staggering speeds, easily twice as much as your usual sniper rounds. They were smaller, sure, but that only meant that the energy was condensed to an even smaller area.
Speed and precision; the two main secrets to punching through armor, and xe held the keys to them both.
They'd moved in by now, filtering into the city along with their vehicles and machinery; xir scope read a distance of two hundred meters and some change. The shifter took xir time with the shot, lining it up with the Mando’s centre mass. Taking xir time was easy thanks to the drug in xir bloodstream, and so the actual preparation happened quickly.
Aim. Exhale. Adjust. Caress the trigger. ??? Profit.
No noise, no flash, no nothing. One second, the air was (relatively) empty, and the next, a beskar ball of death was speeding towards [member="Tempest"].
The human dark jedi who spoke before him now stripped away cloth to expose a battered form, with horrible, festering wounds that wept puss and blood. The Herglic’s lips curled in disgust that had nothing to do with those yawning lacerations and everything to do with the view the fellow espoused. Some sort of former anarchist, devoted to the fall of civilization? At least he saw it was foolishness now. What pathetic drivel.
The foe struck with the speed of a viper, darting forward to stab at the cetacean. Seven feet and two inches of blubber-bound muscle casually lifted up the burnished shield and interposed it betwixt blade and body, saber leaving no more than a glowing red line across the alchemized surface. All further blows met with a like manner deflection as Orcus’ words rolled out and beat upon the shores of Alkor’s mind, a steady tide.
“You strike like lightning, but you will have to do better, boy.”
A belly laugh shook Orcus’ frame. He unclipped the great saber from his belt, still shaking with grim mirth.
“You don’t fight for freedom. No, you fight because you are lost. You want a sense of purpose, but you are terrified because you’ve realized that all the purposes, all the causes… they’re all touted by liars. ”
The only thing Orcus could see the man was free of was his senses. A sad, broken shell of a being. This dark jedi served no higher calling. He was a drowning man who scratched and clawed anything within reach, too terrified to realize who was there to help and who to harm.
“You’re in pain. Incessant anguish.” Orcus knew it well. “But worse than the holes in your body is the one in your soul. To lead such a futile existence, for no one and nothing but yourself. You hate us for giving logic to our causes, because you know we only seek higher power. But you must hate yourself more, knowing that you have no such excuses to hide behind. Nothing but your own pure selfishness, naked and deformed in your waking eye. So you seek to kill me, because I am a Sith, or because I am simply here and in reach of your blade. No more rationality behind it than a rabid dog biting whoever is nearest. Do you think killing me will fill that void, human?”
The retort might be one of a thousand lines. ‘No, but it might help.’ Or ‘Let’s find out.’ All of which Orcus had heard before, a hundred times over. And he knew that no matter what they said, the words always dug deep. Beneath the blades and the snarls they were all only people in the end. Sticks and stones might break their bones, but words still cut the deepest.
The man charged straight for him. Orcus’ lips spread wide exposing conical teeth in a grin. He opened his maw still further, heaving in a great breath, then released it all at once.
“HAUUUM!”
The Force Bellow rippled out toward both foes at once, a shockwave that might knock them off their feet and send them sprawling backward, but no more than that. Orcus did not deign to use the full limits of his power as yet, thus this small, short bellow would only knock back, not kill.
Alkor smiled mirthlessly as the behemoth Sith driveled his mindless prattle about who Alkor was, what he wanted, and why his existence was a fleeting vanity. Words were a powerful weapon against men who clung fast to pride and hope. They were a vicious equalizer in the hands of men who understood the dark nature of humanity and twisted it to tug at the heartstrings of the weak, pathetic fools who still found meaning in the mendacity of this cruel universe. It was understood that the Jedi protected the status quo, and Sith sought to lord over it. It gave them greater meaning and filled the void in their all-too-human hearts. Once, Alkor respected men who thought there was more than that. The view that control over civilization gave a man true cause was a desolate one. It was as they often said: it's loney at the top.
What [member="Darth Orcus"] said resonated with a horrific part of Alkor's past, and the Jen'jidai could have easily commiserated with the Dark Lord over that belief system. It would have been simple enough to fall victim to the vitriol of a fanatic. So many who came before him were crushed under that same tide, and they fell into step with the legions of mindless drones mobilized under the banner of unified darkness.
In the end, even that was a lie.
What this Sith did not understand was that some people did not seek purpose. They did not need it. Some people just wanted to watch the galaxy burn.
"No," Alkor replied simply. "I think killing you will be amusing."
The powerful block greeted his weapon as predicted, and the Sith used his girth to create a near impregnable wall between himself and Alkor. It was brutally efficient in that it did buy him more time to react, which he used to ready his weapon and prepare to deal with two enemies at once. Alkor did not turn to regard [member="Connor Harrison"] as the Jedi fell into combat beside him, though it did spark a small flicker of annoyance that quickly joined with the bonfire of other emotions that tossed like a maelstrom within the Corellian. The booming voice of the Herglic was saturated with the Force as it belted out toward both of them, and it came at both Jedi and Dark Jedi with a concentration of kinetic energy.
Alkor lifted his blade so that it ran parallel to his shoulder and the blade of his arm shielded his face from the impact. This allowed the burst of energy to hit him head on without knocking the lightsaber back toward his body, which in turn prevented excessive damage that the onslaught might otherwise have inflicted due to personal negligence. Many duelists simply forgot to factor spatial awareness into their form to prevent self-inflicted harm. Alkor was not one of them.
His feet dug into the dirt as he was flung backward and his body absorbed the brunt of the sonic attack with sheer force of will. The sound of muscle and bone grating against the veritable crushing weight was offset by intangible energy that wreathed his body due to prior efforts to draw in the Force. The attack had done its work of creating distance, which Orcus no doubt saw as an advantage due to his inhuman height and reach.
But Alkor had felled giants before.
"You talk too much," was all he said as the blade fell to his side once more and the Dark Jedi focused his rage forward. Freedom was something the Sith could not possibly understand. To be in control of everything, or to live outside of mortally inflicted law was nothing more than a dream. It was a dream that gave fools purpose, and it drove them to impossible lows to stand on the broken backs of their brothers and sisters.
Alkor would step on all of their throats. His eyes burned a virulent crimson color as the darkness pulsed through his form. The sound of scream approaching blared like an alarm bell in his mind as the Dark side warned him of incoming danger. He registered the grenade approaching the armored Jedi as his body moved through reality at breakneck speed, and the world around him seemed to function in slow motion. In the split second he could have used to interrupt the blast and protect his ally, Alkor chose instead to press his assault. After all, with that armor, it was not impossible that Harrison would survive a direct attack from an explosive.
Dirt and dust burst from the ground beneath his footfalls as Alkor cut a swath through the distance between himself and Orcus. His blade sliced surgically toward the shield in order to draw the block and twisted round in a tight arc as he came close enough, using the same vector twice.
[member="Darth Adekos"]
(Thank you for your patience and willingness to work with me through PMs, I do appreciate it.)
(This writer is also guilty of a glaring math error calculating SSC squadron count. The amount is not 22 (what it would be if only one of each ship was involved), but 54. Apologies.)
Everything had been going so well. The initial ranging shots had been having a minor impact, and Admiral Gould was about to give her next order when…chaos.
“Ma’am, all sensors are going haywire!” “Admiral, communications are being overloaded!”
The sounds of Heck’s Kitchen, Celebrity Elimination Special, started to fill the bridge. As charming as that might be during times of leisure, it was not good in a military situation.
Admiral Gould could see her people start to panic, looking for leadership, presumably the other ships would be as well. Her mind flicked through options before she decided to take control. “Quiet! Shut down all communications, right now,” she ordered.
Finally, the Rodian’s voice faded.
“The enemy is trying to play tricks with us. However, we’re not going to fall for it. Disable all external comm traffic and hyperwave reception. We’re on our own in this battle until the enemy is defeated. Next, we’re going to have less communication with the other ships, but we need to talk to them somehow. The enemy cannot blank all frequencies at this range, just the most common. So, what we’ll do is switch frequencies each time they jam one. However, we can’t let them catch the pattern, so this form of communication will have to be infrequent and only for emergencies.”
Closer in the enemy would quickly catch on to what frequencies were being chosen, and this method would only be useful communicating to ships near the transmitting ships.
The Admiral’s next concern was how to pass this on to the rest of the fleet. Standard procedure in these cases was to shut down communications. That was fine, but they wouldn’t necessarily know how or when to reactivate. Mind searching, she came upon a very basic solution.
“The subspace transmitters. Specifically the navigation and emergency ones. Send an encrypted pulse through it with a coded reference to the frequency to use. The officers will notice and pass it on.”
It was crude but effective. Such things could not be jammed as easily as hyperwave transmissions, and by sending packets of data this way they could communicate. Still, communications would be severely problematic for the battle.
Next there was the issue of sensors. The automatic sensors were being fogged with distorted images. However, at this long range, the equipment used by the Time Rift ships were not best equipped to do such work. Much of their equipment was very short ranged, especially the distortion projector and sensor scramblers.
Therefore, a bit of lateral thinking was required, and a bit of going back to the old ways.
“They can’t block light unless they have cloaking shields. Get observations measured and marked, line them up manually with the targeting. We’ll have to mark the fall of shots manually and compare them with the sensor data.”
She examined the data from visible light closely. It was difficult at this range to get an exact reading on the type of enemy ships, but they could be seen. Three very large destroyers, but then much smaller ships. The Admiral was prepared to bet that the enemy had a number of E-Warfare ships there.
With disaster averted – though not fully mitigated by any means – it was time to actually prepare for battle.
“Activate molecular shields. The enemy will want to take a bite of us, and we want their attention.”
The Aegis Molecular Shield was indeed a wonderful piece of tech, absorbing energy to be used later. In this case, the energy would be put back into the regular shields to help them charge faster.
Battlegroup Alpha, finally moving and operating somewhat in order, began to move off to the left. This would eventually take it close to one of the stations in planetary orbit. This station, unlike the Triumvirate fleet, would be clearly visible to regular sensors because it was not within the bubble of the E-War craft. Thus, beside ranging shots by the Barsen’Thor, the other long range turbolasers and ion cannons on the Barsen’Thor would begin to fire on this station, mainly for something to do.
Battlegroup Alpha would continue to move to the left, seeking to get close to the station where the firepower of the rest of the ships could be of use in knocking down this station.
This would force the Triumvirate to make a choice. Their Hellbores were formidable weapons, no doubt, but they were all front mounted on relatively slow and sluggish ships. If they wanted to follow the Barsen’Thor they’d need to traverse to their right to keep it in line of fire.
Battlegroup Beta, led by an experienced Commodore named Thrakso, had managed to receive orders to engage before communication issues overtook them, and so moved himself.
These ships moved forward and to the right. They two would eventually pass close to the other station in orbit. Crucially though, if the Triumvirate decided to traverse to follow the Barsen’Thor their best ships would be facing away from this fleet as it curled in. This was some time away, and they’d need to pass the station first, but it was a threat which would become apparent.
Battlegroup Gamma, unable to precisely target the Triumvirate ships with the Vortex Cannons, instead turned and advanced towards the station to the right, following Battlegroup Beta and firing at this station with their Vortex Cannons. Like on the other flank, these stations could be seen clearer and could be targeted, and were big targets for the Heavenshield Heavy Cruisers.
Battlegroup Delta meanwhile had perhaps the worst job of all. Closest to the jamming they had retreated in confusion and did not recover until they had gotten close enough to Alpha to regain control.
However, they then spread out and moved back forward to form a shield between the Triumvirate and Battlegroup Alpha, moving to maximum regular weapon range and testing out some shots against the sensor data.
[SIZE=11pt]The E-Warfare had significantly disadvantaged the Coalition fleet, and though they had ways to regain some measure of control, it was clear the first point had gone to the Triumvirate.[/SIZE]
“Enemy is firing, ma’am!” “Brace for impact!” Kyrana called.
The shots looked less like individual bolts and more like a stream of fire. The point defence, although having trouble with the sensors, could be keyed to fire manually at the streams of energy. Even so, they rapidly were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the firepower.
Some of the shots, fired at such range, missed partly or wholly, whilst many splattered against the shields. When at last the salvo was over, the Admiral looked at the instruments.
“Report?” “Shields down to 60% ma’am.”
Gould winced. At this long range that was worrying. “Direct power to shields from the Colossus Reactor. Keep firing on that station.”
Class Length Number Total
Frontier Class Corvette 150 3 450
Fulminatus Class Missile Corvette 125 4 500
Vigilance Class Frigate 300 2 600
Guardian Class Frigate 300 7 2100
Sentinel Class Cruiser 500 3 1500
Heavenshield Class Heavy Cruiser 800 2 1600
Argent Class Carrier 800 3 2400
Crusader Class Star Destroyer 1600 3 4800
Paladin Class Star Destroyer 1600 2 3200
The Barsen’Thor 2900 1 2900
Total 30 20050
The world outside of Cameron Centurion drifted through his senses as he maintained his kneeling position, presence stretched deep into the ether of the Force. However, he paid absolutely no mind to the moderate shifts here and there. In fact, if he had any immediate effect on the world around him, it was the gradual siphoning of fading life forces from those that fell in battle.
Though he rested atop a building somewhere near the center of the city, the Sith Lord felt as if he was completely immersed into the very soil of Ruusan. The hard-packed dirt of the relatively arid landscape around Olmondo he could feel between his fingers. The heat of the planet's core radiated against his neck, more powerful than a Hapan Summer Afternoon. Most importantly, every shifting of rock and debris over the surface of the ground surrounding the city of Olmondo moved the depths of his soul.
Time slipped by until...there was nothing. Serenity had settled over the entirety of Cameron's existence, and it was not until he sensed the approach of even more interlopers that the Sith Lord came to his feet. Keeping his eyes shielded, the Sith Lord casually extended his arms out to his side. There were precious few actual access points to the city's interior above ground. Given the rather exhaustive defensive measures in place on the ground and in orbit of Ruusan, the Coalition had in no way landed here undetected. There were hardly any methods or tactics to be used that might have surprised the forces of the Sith Triumvirate. Thus far, the advance of the Coalition had been...permitted.
Eyelids slid open to reveal Cameron's silver-green gaze. The Sith Lord's expression was as indifferent as it was vibrant. He afforded the approaching trio of Dak, Lassiter, and Ameli but a brief glance. "Troops and Jedi have breached the perimeter."
A pause.
"We maintain the advantage of elevation once they enter the city. Bolster the perimeter defenses, and prepare to drive back whatever mechanized infantry managed to drift towards the entrance of the city. You two..." Cameron casually indicated the other two Sith. "The Coalition brings the dark side here thinking it can ever come to their aid, but they understand it not. Go have some...fun."
There is no need for elaborate tactical plans. The Coalition has waded very close to a rather defensible position. The plan was simple. Kill them all.
As the Sith Lord dropped his hands, he commanded the activation switches on several pre-positioned charges placed along the base of the perimeter wall. In a matter of seconds, charges began erupting around the city, shattering the underground support structures that held the wall in place, causing the twenty-foot concrete slabs to collapse to the ground. It would not permanently stop infantry, but it would bog down or otherwise funnel mechanized vehicles through a choke-point. Satisfactory for the next phase of the 'plan'. Stepping past the trio, Cameron re-initiated contact with the garrison commander. "Uncover the anti-air defenses. Anything so much as drifts in the vicinity of this city that isn't ours, it dies. Understood?"
"Understood, Lord Ashmedai."
For his part, Cameron swiftly departed the roof, the rustling of his overcoat the only sound left in his wake. He had lingered in reserve long enough.
Objective: Advance to the Citadel, get rid of the Vornskr in her way! Location: Valley of the Jedi Allies: SSC and Allies Enemies: ST and Allies Equipment: Lightsaber and Robes
"Now and beyond this life", her message would reach her hushand's mind before he turned to face Kaine. She understood his 'language' very well and a returned nod confirmed her understanding and as Thurion answered the summon from the foul lips of the spawn of evil, she readied to move out. However, Kaine is clever and had positioned himself between the Citadel and them, blocking her way. Looks like this will be a summon of them both, and so be it!
As Kaine's words fell from his mouth like dripping stomach bile, they did nothing to impact upon her however, as she has been called all sorts of names as has the Silver Jedi, so it was to be expected and she would have been very disappointed had he not. True to form as always, Kaine. But it seems the Sith Lord is impatient and issued the first strike. As his arms raised, the intention clear in his action, Coci prepared for the first assault through the force. The impact of the telekinetic blast hit the ground near them, throwing up dirt, debris and stone. In unison to his action the large feline was released and sent to her through the air, snarling and ready to rent her to pieces.
The impact had sent Coci off balance and pushed to the ground and as she lay on her back, the feline fell toward her with Kaine on it's back. She sensed it, the moment the cat had come to Kaine's side, it has a mild form of force ability and part sentient. "This is not your fight", she entered the mind of the feline and began to manipulated it, at the same time, her arms raised as she lay. The feline's limbs are not long, the body is huge and would crush her, but her own telekinetic pushed from her palms toward the cat's torso powerful enough to crack and break ribs on impact, gripping it through the force Coci tossed it aside through the air enough to land several meters away. If it was to hit the ground hard, further damage would be the result and hopefully to it's rider as well.
She scrambled to her feet, to face their opponent once more.
Location: Valley of the Jedi
Objective: Keeping an eye on Matsu
Allies: [member="Matsu Ike"] [member="Sorel Crieff"]
Enemies: [member="Sinistra"]
Entering the shroud cast by Matsu, Rasu found the world outside became a blur. Separated from the outside through some form of Force manipulation, the Shi'ido's attention was caught by the sound of battle.The chaos of the planet-wide campaign was muffled as the Shi'ido turned to face the Padawan observing the battle. While appearing rather young, Rasu caught a glint in the girl's eye that suggested she had the situation under control. Offering a flash of a smile, Rasu turned to observe the duel that had commenced between the master's of the light and dark. The Jedi's smile turned into a grimace, as she was met with the humming and hissing of sabers clashing back and forth. It was a sound that had not been heard in a long time and it sent a shiver down the woman's spine.
Listening to the words of Matsu as she fought against the Sith Lord, Rasu fought the urge to ignore her friends pleading, willing to jump into the fray and cut the Sith down with her own weapon. However as she turned to the chaos that continued to ensue outside the safety of Matsu's bubble, it became clear that her place was by the Padawan's side.
"Be prepared to jump in at a moment's notice Padawan." she said, addressing Sorel. Her eyes remained fixed on the pair of duelists while her mind stretched out through the Force, probing the perimeter of barrier. "While you Master is an immensely skilled and capable Jedi, I fear that this is one dark sider who may prove too much for Master Ike." Even as she spoke, the two Master's of the Force returned to their duel, as both Master and Padawan watched the sabers clash again and again.
Stay strong Matsu, Rasu thought, as she watched, seemingly helpless as Ruusan continued to fall into chaos.
At the sound of [member="Isley Verd"]'s voice, the hairs on Oron's body erected as chill bumps caressed his warm skin under dark, heavy garments and armor. The Dark Knight was expecting his name to be called by one of the members of the Sith, to hear his name under ceremony and not familiarity. Perched on one of the many corners of the Citadel's rooftops, Oron's first response to the Manda'lore was his finger laying upon the trigger of his sniper rifle with a moth's touch; body balanced on a valley of broken stones, evidence of as much return fire as the ammo he issued into the bodies of his allies' enemies. Still, the Mandalorian channel on his comm remained absent of his voice- so further did his actions proclaim his purpose as he continued to tattoo the foreheads of incoming Coalition infantry; before finally, he said-
"Isley.." A baritone voice, charged and animated by the Dark Side, finally replied to his sibling. Retracting the bi-pods on his rifle, he scooted back off of the ledge. Grey and black residue left by explosions, warded by Force Shields and the hardiness of his armor, left residue on the stones that he rolled over, painting his front side with zebra stripes as he lowered himself to the ground. Leaning his back against the wall, he rested, propping the rifle in his lap. He leaned his buy'ce back also, looking into a sky filled with molten lightning birthed by the destruction of ships; the punishment of soldiers with reflexes too slow and vessels too fragile.
"What are you doing here?" Oron asked as he flipped to a relay page for the Mandalorian channel in his HUD. Isley and Zef Halo were here along with a myriad of Crusaders. Why?
He was extremely familiar with both, having stood shoulder to shoulder with [member="Zef Halo"] during multiple missions for the Mandalorian Empire and he knew his older brother Isley, like waves knew shores. But on this day, the beach was covered with foreign, dark spirits wielding unnatural power, one of which with the potential to hold the ocean's water at bay, leaving the edges of the sand dry for countless hours.
"You shouldn't be here."
His voice was not altogether unwelcoming but the entrance was cold and his words were laced with deadly resolve. The distance between the two was a signifier of that indomitable will that would not have come, were his reasons for being on this planet today not imperative. He leaned over then, reaching into a pouch at his waist, retrieving a device. Oron knew well walls had ears and eyes, as he powered on the device and began to flip through several different holo-cams planted across the interior of the citadel, until he came across one that was prematurely deactivated. Or destroyed? If the IFF's are picking up my gear, they're near. And as if on que, the next flip revealed a cam observing two Mandalorians moving down the hall on the East Wing. One slashed in gray, sapphire beskar'gam and the other in a hooded crimson and obsidian set, somewhat similar to his own.
Oron stood to his feet, leaving the heavy rifle behind as he pushed open the door leading into the building. Brushing chalky dust his armor, he moved to the stairs to descend to the bottom floor. Although his involvement in this war seemed one-dimensional at the moment, he could not develop any future plans with the interference of his Vod on the planet. However, this confrontation could not be avoided and Oron would not run away nor curl into Isley's protection. At one point during the day, they would be forced to cross paths, hiding would only delay the inevitable.
They were three eels at the bottom of a fish tank and they'd recognize each other like italics.
Location: En-route to Olomondo
Allies: [member="Arisa Yune"]
Enemies: ?
Cathbodua was hanging back, herself and several healers waiting to move up or get the ones who were injured from the front as she watched everything she could see. "What reports do we have?" She said it crossing a hand over her chest as she got her scanner out going over a couple of injured as the dust was rising up into the air. Something was happening while she flagged some of them down leaving her heavy equipment pack to work and protect with the others that were there. She just needed to try and hope te battle in the city wasn't going to kill everything while there were people on either side they could help and deal with. "I need a lift, there might be more injured buried in the rubble."
Not the strongest or fastest Jedi Master around and now close to 40, Kei had only ever had average force ability. He did move with some speed being a Master. Speed enough that when he caught physical sight of the force masked figure jumping out at him, it was too late to do much to avoid it for the large-ish epicanthix, who never was the most graceful man in the world either on the best of days. Left arm coming up across his head, the weight of the blow hit both the shoulder area, and partially collided with the stubbled face. The jumping strike staggered him around to bruise cheekbone, not just cheek, visibly denting the left shoulder's armor in the process. A stagger that didn’t instinctively receive an obvious attack, instead a readying of his weapon ahead of him.
Weapon held high above his head angled back, strongly, two handed, Kei braced a firm ready stance as, a half step ready to move forward to his good leg. Strong, certain calmness replacing the breathing, taking in air from the previous run to find force around him. Silently, still, attempting his usual opening force stun along his opponent’s nervous system, that likely neither man would feel any success or notice from, given the armor probably blocked the entirety of Kei's focus getting anywhere near him.
“Lay down your weapons now. You have my word you will come to no harm, given a fair trial.” [member="Kiran Vess"] That offer was genuine, if the other had any ability to tell from tone, bearing or body language. He didn’t know if the other man was directly responsible for killing the hostages. The Jedi Master was calmly probing for response and information, seeking to end the fight before it started.
[member="Tempest"] | [member="Cameron Centurion"]’s explosions would put explosions on top of already placed high explosives, causing quite some damage under the earth as those walls fell. Though much of it came from below, the proceeding blast from the high explosives was powerful, but being shaped charges likely limited in scope to those men directly above the ground. Many wildcards that had either stood near the wall to lay theirs, or were already inside the cities perimeter buildings were hit by the force of the blast, or put under falling rubble. The few that were left started to withdraw, ensuring some occupied buildings were clear, and leveling any that had been safely set and cleared with charges to punch holes for the advance. Sadly combined with the drones hitting them, the old soldiers wouldn’t be playing much further part today, many grievously wounded from their own explosives blasting upward, sniper drones, or falling perimeter debris. [member="Cathbodua"]'s healers might be requested to work overtime!
In this case, before they started to withdraw to medical: Surviving, experienced wildcard commanders were suggesting more indirect routes needed to be physically made through the ruins, via any heavier armor rolling forward and their guns. [member="Tempest"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
Gear Tempest Jedi Armor | Power Blade Mii Knife (Hip) | Lightsaber (Hands) | MCR Rifle Ion Ammo Only (Shoulder) | 2x Stun Grenades | Basic Field Medical Kit (Pouch) | Grappling Hook/Tie/Field Rations (Belt)
